• The courts kept the Rajapaksas in remand and the President courted investors in Colombo, but the week’s real test of the Govt.’s promise of equality before the law arrived on foot, and in saffron, at the gates of the Presidential Secretariat

On Tuesday (13) afternoon, in the kind of rain that empties Colombo’s streets, a crowd of civil society activists, trade unionists, and human rights defenders gathered near the Presidential Secretariat. They had come to protest against the Government’s proposed Protection of the State from Terrorism Bill, and they wanted the Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA) of 1979 repealed along with it. When they tried to march towards the building, they found roadblocks in their way and a security cordon that had been noticeably tightened.

Two days later, on Thursday (15) evening, a very different crowd reached the same gates. It had walked 121 kilometres from the Temple of the Tooth in Kandy, by way of Kadugannawa, Kegalle, Warakapola, Nittambuwa, and Kadawatha, and it was led by members of the Maha Sangha who wanted just one thing: the release of Ven. Galagoda Aththe Gnanasara Thera. When the Secretary to the President did not come out at once, the monks sat down on the road. Dr Nandika Sanath Kumanayake did come out before long, but he could not give them the answer they wanted, and so by Friday (16) they had pitched tents and vowed to stay.

Those two crowds, as it happens, tell the political story of the week rather well. They also say a good deal about the National People’s Power (NPP) Government as it enters its third year, because both, in their own way, were asking whether a Government that has staked its name on the rule of law really means it.

A promise put to the test

The NPP came to power on a simple and potent promise that the law would at last apply to everyone, however powerful, and President Anura Kumara Dissanayake has made that promise the centrepiece of his political identity. Speaking at a rally last week, he declared that the days when the powerful escaped the law while ordinary people faced it were over. He even quipped that news bulletins might soon need a separate segment called ‘Prison News’. 

As if on cue, the courts supplied the material. On Tuesday (13) the Colombo Chief Magistrate further remanded MP Namal Rajapaksa until 27 October in the Airbus bribery case and directed the Bribery Commission to file indictments without delay. The prosecution told court that investigations were complete and the files were with the Attorney General, while the commission is now seeking a permanent three-judge bench to hear the case.

His mother, former First Lady Shiranthi Rajapaksa, arrested on 7 October over the Siriliya Saviya account, was remanded until Friday (16). The Attorney General opposed bail and the Magistrate ordered proper verification of claims about her medical condition, observing that the prison report merely confirmed her admission to the National Hospital of Sri Lanka. On the same day two former Ministers, Rohitha Bogollagama and Chamara Sampath Dasanayake, appeared in court in handcuffs.

For voters who watched one family dominate the affairs of State for much of the past two decades, these are remarkable scenes. Still, remand is not conviction, and whether any of this amounts to justice is a question only trials and verdicts can answer. An anti-corruption drive that produces arrests faster than judgments will sooner or later have to face the question already being asked in sections of the press, namely whether the Government is becoming a prisoner of its own campaign.

Yet the sternest test of the President’s promise last week did not come from the Rajapaksas at all. It came in saffron.

The robe and the law

The facts of the Gnanasara case are not seriously in dispute. In September the Supreme Court held that the pardon granted to him by President Maithripala Sirisena in 2019 had not been made in accordance with the law, and he was returned to prison to serve the rest of a six-year sentence for contempt of court and for intimidating the wife of a missing journalist. It was when he was produced in court in civilian clothing that the trouble began, and what started as a quarrel over the removal of a robe has since grown into a full-blown political headache for the NPP administration.

Cabinet Spokesman Dr. Nalinda Jayatissa explained that the robes had been removed under the Prisons Ordinance and that the same procedure applied to all 63 Buddhist monks now serving prison sentences, with no exception made in this case. In principle, that was the correct position, because a uniform rule, uniformly applied, is exactly what the Government promised the country. The Kotte Sangha Sabha, however, insisted that any decision on whether a monk kept or removed his robe fell within the authority of the Sangha Sabha alone, and the Government soon began to give ground.

After meeting representatives of the Mahanayaka Theras of the three nikayas on 8 October, the President appointed a committee to update the rules, regulations, and standing orders made under the Prisons Ordinance, including those concerning Buddhist monks, and its interim report reached his Secretary on Wednesday (14). On the central demand, though, the President has held firm. He told the prelates that a pardon could be considered only once the appeal process had run its course, and he added a line that deserves to be remembered: “My wishes should not become the law.”

Former President Ranil Wickremesinghe, for his part, chose this moment to explain how the previous administration had dealt with the very same dilemma. When the Thera was first imprisoned, he recalled, his robe was not removed, but a delegation of monks later argued that stripping a monk of his robe over an offence such as obstructing court proceedings was inappropriate. That, according to Wickremesinghe, left a choice between keeping him in prison without his robe or granting a pardon, and in the end a pardon was granted. Former Chief Justice Sarath N. Silva has gone further still, claiming that the punishment imposed on the Thera is itself against the law.

The marchers, meanwhile, understand the power of symbols only too well. They set out on 10 October from the Dalada Maligawa, after a religious observance at the Magul Maduwa, and chanted pirith at the statue of Wariyapola Sumangala Thera before taking to the road. One of their leaders, Ven. Ulapane Sumangala Thera, compared the Government’s treatment of Gnanasara Thera to the way the British had treated the colonial-era monk, while other speakers went further, accusing the Government of disrobing him as a performance for the Tamil diaspora and NGOs. Alongside the march, a campaign to collect 10 million signatures calling for his release was launched across the country.

By the time they reached Colombo, their demand had been honed into something more carefully worded. They asked the President’s Secretary to correct an alleged technical flaw in the 2019 pardon and to give them a definite timeframe, and Dr. Kumanayake could give no definitive answer. The wording is clever enough, but in effect it asks the Executive to repair by administrative means what the country’s highest court has declared invalid. The Supreme Court did leave the door open to a fresh pardon, but only one granted in accordance with the law and after due consideration of all relevant material. That describes a process and not a signature extracted by tents at the gate.

The matter, moreover, is also before the courts. On Wednesday, Court of Appeal President, Justice Rohantha Abeysooriya recused himself from the bench hearing petitions against the removal of the robe, and a fresh three-judge bench of Justices Amal Ranaraja, Mahen Gopallawa, and Priyantha Fernando has fixed 22 October to consider them.

Alarm bells at the top

If the Government had hoped the President’s intervention would let the steam out of the affair, Thursday’s scenes proved otherwise. The protest outside the Presidential Secretariat appears to have caused considerable discomfort among some of the highest officeholders in President Dissanayake’s Government, and it is learnt that the developments came as a shock to senior figures who had expected tensions to ease once the President met the prelates and appointed his committee. Instead, the march from Kandy reached Colombo, the monks demanded a presidential pardon for Gnanasara Thera, and Opposition politicians joined the agitation, so that fears are now emerging over possible repercussions among Sinhala Buddhist voters.

In fact, the issue has been the subject of discussion at the highest levels of the Government over the past two weeks, with President Dissanayake himself exploring ways of resolving the controversy. Among the suggestions, this column understands, was that the President should make a statement in Parliament explaining the legal limitations surrounding a presidential pardon. Those favouring the proposal believe that a direct explanation could address the concerns of the Maha Sangha while reaffirming the Government’s commitment to the judicial process.

However, Thursday’s developments have raised questions about whether yet another explanation would satisfy the protesters. After all, the President had already met representatives of the Mahanayaka Theras and appointed a committee to examine prison regulations concerning Buddhist monks. Yet those who arrived in Colombo were not seeking another committee or a review of prison rules. They wanted Gnanasara Thera released. And that has left the Government facing an uncomfortable question: how will it satisfy the protesting monks without compromising its assurance that the law will apply equally to everyone?

The 70% factor

What has reportedly caused even greater concern within sections of the Government is the possible reaction of Sinhala Buddhist voters. According to the 2024 Census of Population and Housing, Buddhists account for 69.8% of Sri Lanka’s population, while the Sinhalese constitute 74.1%. Although these figures do not represent the exact composition of the electorate, they underline the significance of the Sinhala Buddhist community in national politics, and they go some way towards explaining why politicians in this country have always trodden so carefully around the clergy.

At the November 2024 Parliamentary Election, the NPP secured 6.86 million votes, representing 61.56% of valid votes, and won 159 seats. Its electoral performance was particularly strong in predominantly Sinhala Buddhist districts, including Gampaha, Kalutara, Galle, Matara, Hambantota, Kurunegala, and Anuradhapura. It is against this background that some senior Government figures are reportedly questioning whether the administration can afford a prolonged confrontation with sections of the Buddhist clergy, since the fear is that the controversy could develop into a wider campaign portraying the Government as insensitive to Buddhist religious traditions.

That fear should nevertheless be kept in proportion. The demands of the protesting monks cannot automatically be taken as representing the views of the entire Buddhist population, nor is there any evidence so far that the dispute has affected the NPP’s electoral standing.

Opposition enters the picture

If the protests themselves were not enough to cause concern, the involvement of Opposition politicians has added another complication. Opposition Leader Sajith Premadasa called on President Dissanayake to intervene personally following Thursday’s developments, while politicians associated with the Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna (SLPP) were also seen supporting the agitation.

Pivithuru Hela Urumaya Leader Udaya Gammanpila, meanwhile, has made allegations of his own. At a media briefing he claimed that the Thera had told him prison officers had forcibly removed his robe despite his objections, and that one officer had made a video call to an influential person to show the Thera being made to wear prison attire. Responding at the weekly Cabinet media briefing, Dr. Jayatissa said the allegations were serious and needed to be verified, and that the Police would inquire once the prison authorities lodged an official complaint. Gammanpila, he added, would then be free to reveal during the investigation what he had said, seen, and heard.

The controversy has thus provided Opposition groups with common ground on which to criticise the Government, despite their differences on almost every other political matter. And some within the administration fear that more Opposition politicians and Buddhist religious organisations could join the campaign, turning a dispute over the treatment of one imprisoned monk into a broader confrontation over the Government’s relationship with the Maha Sangha.

Sabotage or administrative blunder?

Meanwhile, an interesting question is understood to have been raised by a senior Minister holding a high position in the Government. The Minister has reportedly wondered whether the circumstances surrounding the controversy could have involved an attempt to embarrass the administration, and whether the sequence of events that led to Gnanasara Thera being produced before court without his robes, followed by the public uproar, warranted closer examination.

No evidence of sabotage has emerged, however, and the Government has not decided to launch an investigation. The prison authorities, for their part, have maintained that they acted in accordance with existing regulations. But if that is so, why was the likely reaction of the Buddhist clergy not anticipated before the matter developed into a national controversy? For a Government that has repeatedly emphasised administrative efficiency and accountability, the handling of the incident has left considerable room for criticism, and the question will not go away simply because no one wishes to ask it out loud.

The President’s dilemma

The President now faces a situation in which the original issue has been overtaken by a far more difficult demand. The Supreme Court, in overturning the pardon granted by former President Sirisena, did not permanently prevent another pardon, but it made clear that any such decision must comply with the law. President Dissanayake had already explained to representatives of the Maha Sangha that his personal wishes could not become the law, and yet that position has plainly not satisfied those demanding Gnanasara Thera’s release.

The Government is therefore caught between two difficult choices. Yielding to political pressure could raise serious questions about its commitment to the rule of law, because every remand prisoner whose family can fill a road would then ask why the law bends for some and not for others. On the other hand, allowing the dispute to drag on could deepen tensions with sections of the Buddhist clergy, which the Opposition would be only too happy to amplify.

The irony is that the NPP, which secured an unprecedented parliamentary majority by promising a different approach to governance, now finds itself confronting a familiar problem that has troubled successive governments, namely the balancing of religious sensitivities against legal and political considerations. And an incident that might have been anticipated and addressed through timely consultation has instead required the President’s personal intervention, without bringing the dispute to an end.

The sensible course, in this column’s view, is to let the courts settle the robe question, let the committee frame prison rules on a principled basis, and let any pardon application take its lawful course once the appeal is over. That may not be the popular course this week. But for an administration that came to power promising equal application of the law, the Gnanasara controversy has become an uncomfortable test of whether it can uphold that principle while navigating the religious and political pressures that surround it, and only the lawful course allows it to pass that test.

The other law on the table

If the Gnanasara affair tests whether the Government will apply the law evenly, the Protection of the State from Terrorism Bill tests the quality of the laws it means to make. Presented to Parliament on 6 October by Justice Minister Harshana Nanayakkara, it is the latest attempt to replace the Prevention of Terrorism Act of 1979, and like the drafts before it, it has run into heavy criticism.

Human Rights Watch has pointed to an overbroad definition of terrorism, inadequate judicial oversight, and warrantless powers to stop, search, question, and arrest for the Police, the armed forces, and the Coast Guard on mere reasonable suspicion. Under different provisions of the bill, it says, a person could be held without charge for up to two years in all. On Tuesday (13) the UN Human Rights Office called on the Government to revise the bill substantially, warning that key provisions risked perpetuating the concerns long associated with the PTA. To its credit, the UN office also acknowledged genuine improvements: a narrower definition of terrorism, the removal of confessions made to the Police as admissible evidence, stronger safeguards for journalists and civil society, mandatory audio-visual recording of Police interviews, and a central database of arrests and detentions. On Thursday, Transparency International Sri Lanka went further and urged the Government to withdraw the bill altogether and repeal the PTA without further delay.

The old law, meanwhile, has not quietly gone into retirement. According to figures the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka provided to the UN, there were 46 PTA-related detention cases in 2025 and another 12 in the first three months of this year alone.

There is an irony here that senior figures in the Government will appreciate better than most. The Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP), the party at the heart of the NPP, was the first organisation ever proscribed in this country, in 1971, and the new bill makes it an offence to join, recruit for, fund, or take part in the activities of a proscribed organisation. Few parties know better than the JVP how such powers look from the receiving end.

Nobody is suggesting that this Government intends to misuse them. But laws outlive the governments that write them, and a bill drafted by an administration confident of its own good intentions will one day be administered by its successors, whoever they may be. A government that asks to be judged by the rule of law must therefore accept that it will also be judged by the laws it leaves behind.

And it should not go unnoticed that at the same gate last week, one crowd was received by the President’s Secretary while the other was met with roadblocks. The monks, to be fair, had walked for six days and could hardly be ignored. Still, a democratic government ought to be equally willing to hear both.

Growth, the IMF and a new vocabulary

Away from the street, the President began the week speaking a language that would have startled the JVP of a generation ago. The Sri Lanka Economic and Investment Summit, organised by the Ceylon Chamber of Commerce at the Shangri-La Colombo on Monday (12) and Tuesday (13), gave the business community an opportunity to engage directly with him on economic policy, investment prospects, and the challenges confronting the private sector. He urged local and foreign businesses to invest in Sri Lanka with confidence, promising transparent governance, stronger laws, and better infrastructure.

He went further too. The Government, he said, was preparing to tender four major high-voltage transmission lines to private investors, in a sector that has until now been entirely State-owned. He also revealed that Sri Lanka was exploring a new, growth-oriented arrangement with the International Monetary Fund (IMF) once the current Extended Fund Facility ended, although no commitment had yet been made.

One of the highlights of the summit was an interactive dialogue in which business leaders questioned the President on everything from the broader economic outlook to the practical difficulties they face. Moderating the session, Chamber Vice Chairman Bingumal Thewarathanthri opened with an interesting observation. “This is the second time you have met with us. Our first meeting took place just two months after you assumed office. Before coming here today, I watched the video of that discussion again to remind myself of what was said,” he remarked. “What struck me was that there was no significant gap between the vision you presented then and the direction in which the country is moving today. I thought that was a very positive development.”

Thewarathanthri also referred to the challenges the country had faced during the past two years, including Cyclone Ditwah and the conflict in the Middle East. “Considering the circumstances, we, as the Chamber of Commerce, believe the country has reached a reasonably satisfactory position,” he said. That set the tone for a discussion in which the President was questioned on several pressing economic issues, including some that have caused friction between the Government and sections of the business community.

President Dissanayake did not shy away from the more contentious questions and he acknowledged that certain measures had initially attracted criticism. “There were occasions when the Government had to take firm decisions. Some of those decisions were initially seen as wrong. However, with time, people were able to understand why those decisions were necessary. Sometimes, we have to make difficult decisions, even when they are painful,” he explained.

The formal dialogue may have ended there, but it is learnt that the conversation carried on well beyond the conference hall. As the summit concluded, a group of business leaders approached the President for an informal chat, and he greeted them warmly in a relaxed atmosphere. “How are things going?” he asked. “Not bad, Mr. President,” came the reply. One businessman then offered a particularly generous compliment: “Mr. President, if we had previously had a president like you, someone who considers every aspect of an issue and understands the economy, this country would have developed long ago.”

The President responded with a modest smile, but he offered a rather different reading of the country’s past. “Except for one or two, most of those who governed this country in the past did not make mistakes because they lacked an understanding of the economy. It was their political policies that brought the country to this situation. There is no point in discussing those things now. Let us work together to rebuild this country. We need a greater contribution from all of you,” he said. The businessmen assured him of their support, with one observing that the country could succeed only if its economy grew stronger.

Another then turned to taxation. “Yes, Sir. There were times when things were difficult for us too. But now, because we believe that every cent we pay in taxes under this Government will ultimately return to the people and the country in the form of benefits, we are happy to pay our taxes.” It is not every day that one hears a Colombo businessman say that, and the President, smiling, steered the conversation towards his next priority. The Government’s next major objective, he told them, would be to strengthen the rural economy and extend greater assistance to small-scale entrepreneurs, with concessions, support, and opportunities to help smaller businesses expand and contribute more to growth. That echoes his public pledge that the 2027 Budget will focus heavily on rural economic empowerment.

Judging by the conversations that followed, several participants left with a clearer understanding of the Government’s economic direction, even though questions about taxation, investment, and business conditions remain very much alive for the private sector. And that is precisely where the arithmetic gets difficult. The Staff-Level Agreement reached with the IMF earlier this month on the Seventh Review, worth about $ 345 million, depends on the 2027 Budget, due on 12 November, being presented in line with programme parameters, and the fund has also pressed for fuel prices to move with global markets during a protracted war in the Middle East. Satisfying the IMF and the rural voter in a single document will be the President’s hardest task as Finance Minister this year.

Political rivals join hands abroad

The week brought the Government one undoubted success abroad, and it came from Riyadh. Sivarasa Anojan, a Sri Lankan national employed in Saudi Arabia, had been sentenced to death by a court there over allegations that he made statements on social media against Islamic religious figures. His case became the focus of an extensive diplomatic and legal effort, with President Dissanayake, Foreign Minister Vijitha Herath, and other Government representatives working to secure a commutation of the sentence.

What made the campaign remarkable, though, was the coalition it brought together. Among those who intervened were senior Attorneys Upul Kumarapperuma, PC and Faiszer Musthapha, PC, two legal professionals associated with opposing political camps. Their involvement drew attention not only because of their differing political affiliations, but also because Kumarapperuma is Sinhalese while Musthapha is Muslim, and Anojan himself is Tamil. A group of Government MPs representing different communities also visited diplomatic missions and held discussions aimed at securing relief for him, so that the effort to save one young man drew support from across ethnic and religious lines.

On Tuesday (13) those efforts bore fruit, when the Supreme Court of Saudi Arabia set aside the death sentence. The President welcomed the outcome, crediting patient diplomacy and respect for the legal processes of a friendly country, and Opposition Leader Premadasa also welcomed it as a matter of immense joy. With Herath overseas at the time, it fell to Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs Arun Hemachandra to make the official announcement on behalf of the ministry.

It is learnt that shortly afterwards, Hemachandra received a telephone call from a businessman in Trincomalee who wanted to express his appreciation. “Minister, securing Anojan’s release from the death penalty is a tremendous achievement. You handled the matter exactly as it should have been handled,” the businessman said. He went on to recall previous experiences in which similar incidents had become politically contentious. “We have had some bitter experiences in the past. There were occasions when certain people tried to exploit situations like this for political advantage,” he remarked.

The Deputy Minister replied by stressing the Government’s responsibility and the support extended by different communities. “Yes. We are doing everything possible to fulfil our responsibilities. What is particularly important is that we stood together as a country at this critical moment. Even the Muslim community came forward to support Anojan. That is extremely significant,” he said. The businessman, in turn, connected the outcome to what he saw as a change in public attitudes. “It is because of the system through which you are governing the country that people’s attitudes are beginning to change. Many people are talking about this transformation.” Hemachandra’s response was firm: “We will not allow another ethnic conflict to emerge in this country. To prevent that, we must bring about a fundamental change in people’s attitudes.”

The Anojan case, then, showed what diplomacy, legal intervention, and co-operation across political and communal lines can achieve together, and it demonstrated how a matter involving a Sri Lankan citizen overseas can unite people who would otherwise find themselves on opposite sides of the political divide. Moments of shared relief across the aisle are rare enough in this country to be worth recording. The larger question, however, is whether the co-operation shown at a moment of national concern can be sustained beyond a single incident and turned into lasting understanding among communities.

On the other diplomatic front, the question of the Iranian vessels anchored off our coast remains more delicate. Foreign Minister Herath has insisted that Washington exerted no pressure and that Sri Lanka decided independently, and the President told last week’s rally that these decisions had won international appreciation. Yet the Government also declined an Iranian request to supply the vessels with food and water, and cautioned private firms that servicing them could invite secondary US sanctions. Sovereignty, in a world of sanctions, is often a matter of careful phrasing.

An old wound at home

Whether the spirit of the Anojan campaign will extend to harder questions at home is another matter altogether. Last week the Government blocked a private member’s motion by Democratic Tamil National Alliance MP Selvam Adaikalanathan calling for a Presidential Commission of Inquiry into the July 1983 pogrom, and on 9 October, 51 Government MPs submitted a resolution to the Deputy Speaker proposing a Parliamentary Select Committee instead. Justice Minister Nanayakkara told Parliament that the Government agreed with the substance of the motion, but argued that a presidential commission would operate outside Parliament, whereas a select committee would allow every party, including the mover, to take part.

Tamil MPs were not persuaded. They point out that a committee of Parliament cannot replace an independent investigation or a judicial process capable of establishing criminal responsibility, and history is on their side. A commission appointed in 2001 to investigate the Black July violence produced only a presidential apology in 2004, and no prosecutions followed.

Add the committee on prison rules and the select committee reviewing election laws, which received an expert committee report on public proposals last week, and a pattern begins to emerge. Committees have their uses, of course. But in this country they have also long been the place where urgent questions go to wait, and a Government that promised a clean break with the past should be wary of borrowing one of its oldest habits.

The week ahead

The calendar offers little respite. Parliament resumes on Tuesday (20), the Court of Appeal takes up the robe petitions on 22 October, Namal Rajapaksa returns to court on 27 October. And somewhere in between, the Government must decide what to do about the tents outside its own front door.

With 159 seats, the NPP has the numbers to pass almost anything it likes in Parliament. But last week was a reminder that numbers in the House do not always translate into authority on the street, and that nothing erodes a mandate faster than inconsistency.

The Government has said, and rightly so, that no one is above the law. Last week it was asked, from two quite different directions, whether it really means it. Will it hold that line when the prisoner wears a robe and the petitioners arrive with the weight of the Maha Sangha behind them? And will it hold the laws it writes to the same standard it demands of others? On the first, the President has so far stood firm. The answer to the second will be written in Parliament in the weeks ahead, and the country will be reading closely.

PHOTO VENURA CHANDRAMALITHA